


Sit Pretty

by BekiBi



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Cruelty, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Mind Control, Slave coding, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Valve Plugs (Transformers), valveplug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-09 23:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16458893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekiBi/pseuds/BekiBi
Summary: Starscream has always relied on the kindness of strangers- That is, he's always gone crying to the Autobots when things have gotten too rough for him to handle on his own, but usually there is something in it for them. When the danger he is in offers no reward to the Autobots, will they still come to the rescue?





	1. Coding Success

He burned with rage.

His body was scorching internally metaphorically and literally from the way his limbs moved without his consent, his will absolutely useless against the invasive code redirecting every process tree. Each second it cut off his own desire to do something in favor of a command was like being pushed down inches from the finish line in a race for his life. His control was gone. It was taken from him.

“Lift your left arm,” Megatron growled, his jagged teeth clenched together as his rough lips spread wide into a grin. Starscream sat on a lab table, his expression vacant and optics unfocused glaring through the once gladiator, wings limp and resting on the table behind him. His left arm snapped up high like a student quick to please the teacher. “Put it at your side,” Megatron ordered and the limb obeyed, the jet’s fingers clattering on the metal when his arm went limp.

“He is to your liking, Lord Megatron?” Shockwave had already run all the tests he needed to know that the coding implanted was successful, but his Lord wanted to verify it for himself first. Completely understandable.

“So far, yes. He responds quickly,” he mused, leaning close, his smile still smug and wide, “and he responds _quietly_ ,” he commented with a pleased hum. “Why not give us a smile, Starscream? You’ll be such a pleasant Decepticon to have at my command now. Doesn’t that please you?”  
  
His spark raged in its casing, whirling and lashing out, but it wound tighter and kept his field reigned in, the unable to even let his emotions free. He was imprisoned and he could do nothing but sit and await orders, praying to Primus or whatever gods or deities may exist that could grant him some sort of reprieve from his new hell. If his system was even remotely his own he would have jumped when Megatron bellowed at him so suddenly, inches from his face.

“I SAID SMILE, STARSCREAM! I command you to smile!” The seeker’s lips pulled up in the corners, a delicate smile gracing his features. His optics were soft, betraying the curses and malice his soul was filling with. The Decepticon warlord settled down, his flared armor seeming to ease back down as he stood back. He radiated satisfaction and bolstered it, making Starscream feel every whisp of the other’s pleased mood. “That’s more like it. You will speak only when spoken to, Starscream. You will respond kindly when you are asked anything, no more of that ragged crowing of yours. Understood?”  
  
“Yes, my Lord,” Starscream practically whispered, his voice box tight and timid, working harder than it had ever worked to keep the rasp from entering his tone. Paired with his smile he looked like the perfect image of servitude, perched on a table and smiling up at his leader.

“Excellent. I’ll have to run further testing in private another time. For now, Starscream, you will go to my quarters and wait for me there. Go.” He stood back and watched, slightly impressed with how the jet slipped off of the raised table and managed to not scrape his wings on the surface while still keeping them low and un-emoting.

“Yes, my Lord,” his voice cooed once again, his pedes moving in their own accordance, following the pre-decided plan set forth by his coding to obey his master’s orders.

When the jet was out of the room Megatron looked to Shockwave, still pleased and letting it show in his grin. He clapped the purple mech’s shoulder. “Excellent work, Shockwave. I take it you followed every directive I gave you?”

“Yes, Megatron. He will obey orders from you, he will not vocally nor physically refute any orders. He will protect you with his life like a loyal Decepticon. He will be subserviant to other officers unless their orders contradict yours.” The massive pointed mech rumbled with laughter.  
  
“This is wonderful. Simply magnificent, perhaps your best work yet. I’ll let you know if I need anything else, Shockwave.” He gave another pat to the other’s shoulder before heading out of the room. The scientist’s large ruby optic followed him, stoic and unable to blink.  
  
“My lord,” he called over, stopping the other mech and gaining his attention once more. “You understand this procedure contradicts everything Decepticons have fought to destroy?” The room felt like ice had frosted over it. Megatron turned to Shockwave, his fists clenched tightly.

“Do you oppose of my treacherous Second in command being nullified as a threat? You would prefer to see him threaten the leader and symbol of my cause??” His tone was dark and warning.

“Certainly not. Please, pardon my presumptuous question,” Shockwave bowed his head in a gesture of apology. Megatron left at that, the lab doors hissing closed behind him and leaving the Decepticon prized scientist alone with what could possibly be the first inkling of guilt he’d felt in millennia. What he’d done today for Megatron was not only illogical, but it was something that catapulted them right into the same category as the functionalist regime they’d brutally rallied against. The same ideals Starscream had risked life and limb to claw apart at Megatron’s hand was now the very thing Megatron was returning to him.

There was no way for the stubborn jet to fight the slave coding, and there was no way Shockwave would ever be permitted to remove. The purple mech clenched his single fist tightly and could only process everything he’d done. What he did today was unforgivable.

Starscream would be at their mercy, he was a slave to the Decepticon force he was supposed to be leading second to Megatron. The seeker only had two outs in this insane situation: someone would have to learn of this madness and feel enough pity to steal him away from Megatron, or the seeker would self destruct if he could fight the slave coding hard enough.

Shockwave had run the numbers many times and determined the Air Commander was 3,470 times more likely to short himself out fighting his code than to stumble across anyone merciful enough to save him from such a wretched fate. The scientist certainly had more self-preserving sense than to go trying anything so soon after implanting the code, at least, so that reduced the chances of anyone even knowing right away what had happened to the jet. All the other could do was refocus and move forward. He had work to do.

* * *

How long would he stand here? How long would he have to wait for Megatron? He had enough mobility to turn on the light and shut the door when he’d arrived in the familiar habsuite, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit and at least rest. He had to wait, his body had to brace and be at attention for his master. He was able to demand his legs move, carrying himself across the room toward a chair, but he could only stare at it. Starscream was no longer smiling, at least. How disgusting must he have looked, grinning like some youngling brainwashed follower? Was that what Megatron was after? The same naive jet eager to make a name for himself in the Decepticon cause?  
  
The door opened behind him and he about-faced, staring vacantly at Megatron as the other entered. Their optics nearly locked and Starscream looked down, focusing on anything but his optics. His system felt hot, angry, punishing him for even thinking he deserved to look at the other directly.  
  
“Starscream,” Megatron nearly purred the jet’s designation. “Come here, let me look you over.” He was pleased to see the seeker elegantly walk toward him, stopping once he was within arm’s reach and keeping his optics cast down. “You know, its much easier to take you in when you aren’t squawking away or making attempts on my life.” He reached a clawed hand out to touch his chin, pausing as he expected him to flinch away, take a swipe or spit a curse his away. There was no movement from the seeker, not even a flutter of his optics. The mech grasped Starscream’s chin firmly, pulling it and turning his head every which way to look him over.

Megatron observed how the seeker still avoided his direct gaze and felt the lack of resistance in his neck. “Look at you. Obedient, quiet… Why did you fight this, Starscream? Why did you make it have to come to this?” Starscream couldn’t respond, it was not an order, it was a rhetorical question. He wanted to tell him this was all Megatron’s own twisted doing but his glossa wouldn’t work. His voice box remained inert and his energy idle. “Is this what you wanted all along?” A direct question.

“No.” The gentle answer gave Megatron pause and Starscream felt cold dread run through his lines.

“You will not lie to me, Starscream. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He yanked on the seeker’s jaw, trying to get him to look at him.  
  
“I am not, my lord.” His answer was direct and proper, but even the soft tone wouldn’t appease the mad mech. Megatron tisked and pushed Starscream back, the jet barely able to catch his balance a few steps back.  
  
“Lies! You’ll be punished for your resistance, Starscream,” he warned as he closed in on the other, grabbing his neck. “You’re still a rebellious whelp, nipping at my heels and wishing you were even HALF the mech I am!” Without actually asking a question Starscream could not answer, he could not defend his view. All he could do was stand still while the larger of the two squeezed harder and harder at his throat until his delicate internal wiring began to pinch and his fuel lines slowed. “You were NOTHING, Starscream. Even as my Second in Command you were NOTHING to the cause. Do you know why you are only something now?”

His voice box clicked and reset, trying to avoid any crackling static or rasp. Starscream choked out a strained whisper. “I-I do not know why I am now something, my lord.” Megatron leaned close to him, his pointed denta scraping against Starscream’s cheek as he hissed his answer into the seeker’s audial.

“Because now, you’re MINE.”

He burned with rage. He could not defend himself. He could not fight the other off, he could not raise a hand or his voice or even his optics. He was at Megatron’s mercy, and the gladiator never had any to begin with.


	2. Running Drills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream is getting worked physically in every possible way.

Days melted together in a murky puddle of time. Starscream was put through his paces, certainly it was to be expected, but the degree in which his leader took it was extreme.  
  
“Again.” Starscream’s transformation cog lurched at the order and he transformed swiftly into his sleek fighter jet facade, settling on seldom used landing gear. “Again.” His body pushed itself away from the ground, seams parting and components sliding into their original arrangement and he landed on his slim pedes, his right foot shifting apart from the left to keep his balance as his vents roared. His systems were blaring warnings of low energon, stress on his cog, dangerously high core temperature readings, and Starscream stood silently, staring blankly ahead at the space Megatron occupied on his throne. “Again.” Once more the jet’s transformation cog jumped to it, pulling Starscream back down onto his landing gear. He was allowed to sit like that for a moment, Megatron distracted from the other sitting before him while he took a relaxed drink of his energon.

“You’re very quiet these days, Starscream,” he swirled the glowing liquid around in the cube. “I’d almost consider things boring with the lack of your intelligible blithering day in and day out… though a more suited way of looking at it is that your obedience has resulted in higher efficiency.” Starscream listened in aggravation as Megatron belittled him. “Again.” Starscream was twisted back up and onto his pedes, his right pede slipping completely out from under him and sending the jet to his knees with a loud scraping clang. He could feel the punishing heat of failure in his lines and he gasped, trying to push himself up from the floor. It took a few seconds but Starscream managed to get himself onto his pedes, hands on his knees and helm bowed as he vented hotly.  
  
“I see you’re slipping in performance. Come, let us retire for the evening.” The hulking mech stood from his throne, energon cube in hand, and stepped down from the platform it rested upon in the bridge. The crew had been barred from the bridge for the time being, as for whatever reason Megatron was keeping the cause for Starscream’s newfound obedience under wraps. The seeker kept his optics dim and averted to the ground, tensing and shrinking in on himself when the other came up beside him. “You’re in need of refueling. We’ll see to your needs privately.”

Starscream could only swallow thickly as he turned to follow the other out of the room. Being in his bipedal form for longer than 30 seconds was making it slowly easier to continue walking, but made it far more noticeable just how tired his body was. He needed recharge, refuel, and to be left alone for just a small amount of time, but such a trifecta was not to be expected anytime soon.

The walk was long and quiet, only Megatron’s heavy steps and Starscream’s ragged vents were heard as they made their way to the lord’s quarters. The double-wide doors hissed open, the lithe mech flinching and waiting until permitted to enter. He didn’t want to. When those doors closed- “Enter,” Megatron called over, Starscream’s internal conflict pushed down under the command to step through the threshold. The doors clashed shut heavily behind him, a tone chiming to indicate its heavily locked and coded status. Megatron strode to the berth and turned, sitting on the edge of the large piece of furniture and patted the spot beside himself, raising the still unfinished energon glass in an unlikely promise of reward for the other.

He didn’t need a verbal command to have his joints ache to follow what his master desired. The jet made his way toward the other, sitting delicately beside him and placing his hands in his lap, optics down and listening for further instruction.  
  
“I’d like to try something. I want you… to speak freely.” Starscream tensed all over and snapped his head toward the other, vision growing cloudy and unable to see into Megatron’s optics. “As though you never had this code implanted. Speak fully as if there is no consequence. Am I understood?”  
  
“Yes, my lord.” He had to find interest in the large once-gladiator’s sharpened denta, unable to look directly at his optics.  
  
“How are you feeling _physically_?” He smirked and his tone was delightfully curious, already knowing how the other may be faring.  
  
“Everything hurts,” the words came naturally, unable to speak deceitfully to the other. “My joints creak, my wings pinch, and I’m sore from head to toe.” His voice was hushed and unhurried, careful to not warrant himself any sort of punishment.  
  
“As to be expected after running drills. How about _emotionally_?” Starscream gripped tighter to his knees. “Tell me, pet.”  
  
“I hate that name,” Starscream spoke faster than he could process his blunt words. “I feel betrayed, and angry, and hurt,” -NO STOP- “and I feel as if the only relief I may ever have from this horrible fate you’ve cast upon me is death. I feel as though my spirit is breaking every time you give me a command, and every time you find my suffering amusing it feels like you are stepping further down into madness,” - SHUT UP YOU FOOL! STOP-!! – “I am afraid.” He screamed at himself to stop but his mouth was not on board with his thoughts.

Megatron was delighted, his optics burning bright and his grin wide and wild. “What do you _fear_ , Starscream?” He purred the question to him.

“I fear losing myself to you, and I fear you losing yourself to madness.”

“Is that all?” Megatron lifted the cube curiously, trying to think of another way to question the other and pry more unwilling info from him. “How long have you hated me?”  
  
“I… don’t hate you..” Starscream gripped his knees tight and wanted to dissolve into nothing.  
  
“You cannot lie to me Starscream!” He bellowed and the smaller mech flinched, shoulders hunching.

“Yes, I cannot lie to you,” he reaffirmed. “I do not hate you. I hate what you are becoming.”  
  
“And before you hated what I am becoming?” He sneered, holding the cube out at a dangerous angle. The jet swallowed hard at the thought of that precious blue liquid slipping away. “When I recruited you, when you first agreed to follow me blindly? How long have you plotted against me you treacherous mongrel?!”

“The plotting was very recent, I never had any other goals in the beginning. I-I loved you,” Starscream almost gasped his answer, too shocked at himself to give any other inflection to it. The room was silent, still, and uncomfortably tense. The cube was righted, energon becoming level and then coming closer to Starscream.  
  
“Take a drink, pet,” Megatron grinned. “I’ll ask you again after you’ve quenched your clearly parched throat.” Starscream reached for the treasured drink and stopped when he heard a harsh “NO.” He looked up toward the other’s face, only seeing that oddly pleased smirk. “I’ll feed you. Relax.” The tension seeped away and Starscream’s shoulders sagged, his helm bobbing forward and back up as if his exhaustion was slammed down on him following the other’s statement. The open corner of the cube where the Decepticon warlord had sipped from minutes before was then pressed against Starscream’s dry lips. He drank calmly, cherishing every drop the other allowed to enter his system. When the cube was eased away he whined softly but remained still and waiting for further command or questioning.  
  
“Now then… you say you loved me? Tell me about that.” He leaned away to set the cube aside on his nightstand. He was fascinated by the pained look flashing across Starscream’s features, the panic and struggle before he continued his forced confession.  
  
“I fell in love with your cause, and your charisma. You have always been attractive to me on a physical and intellectual level…”  
  
“And you have ‘fallen out of love’, I assume?” He chuckled.  
  
“I have… You’ve grown less sane, more irrational and brash in the last several decades.”  
  
“Oh,” Megatron seemed very interested. “Is that all it took to shake your faith in me? The extreme depths I go to in order to win this war has caused you to no longer hold affection for me?” He laughed cruelly and grabbed hold of the lithe seeker’s waist, pulling him right up into his lap and making the other straddle his legs. “Tell me truthfully now,” his voice was almost playful, “and look me in the eye when you do… would you love me again if I was ‘kinder’ to you?”  
  
Starscream’s optics snapped up, looking right into the other’s twisted fiery optics with his own dull, tired embers. “I… would...” He didn’t want to think about this, he didn’t want to help the other understand him.  
  
“Really?!” He barked a laugh. “You would fall for me like some youngling for their idol if I were to say a kind word to you on occasion?? That’s all it would have taken to get the mighty, spiteful and vengeful Commander Starscream in my corner again??”

“Y… yes,” he couldn’t fight his honest answers. “All I have ever wanted was for you to look upon me with favor, my Lord.” Starscream’s voice cracked and shook with emotion. He was so ashamed of his weakness, of his deep need for some sort of affection from the other mech of all people.  
  
“Well then… let’s start reconditioning you, hm? You’re in acceptable physical shape I suppose. Let’s try some other form if ‘drilling’,” he growled and leaned close, his servo on the small of the jet’s spinal strut. Starscream couldn’t turn away, optics becoming more glassy and lubricant filled them and began to spill out.  
  
“Please don’t mock me,” he pleaded softly.  
  
“Don’t beg,” Megatron tisked and pressed his mouth roughly to the other’s, tilting his helm to push Starscream’s lips open to receive his glossa. It was thick and brutishly forceful as was the rest of Megatron. It slid over top and to the side of the seeker’s warm, wet glossa, and proceeded to entice the other into kissing him back weakly. It took a minute of the meager responses to prompt the warlord to pull back and frown. “Put some effort into it!”

Starscream lurched forward at his command, arms around the other’s broad neck and pressing his lips back to his. He was a completely different con than he was a second ago.

Megatron hummed, pleased at the other’s whimpering kisses, his massive claws playing up and down the jet’s sensitive back and up to his neglected wings. “Ah-!” He cried out when Megatron tugged on one a little roughly.  
  
“Yes, I want you to be vocal tonight,” the mech growled lowly. “Tell me what you want from me to please you. This is your chance to prove you want me.” Starscream nodded quickly, panting as he felt out of cool air all over again with his taxed systems heating so eagerly. His lips crashed into his Master’s once more, his processor convinced this would gain favor and please his master, it may lead to the life he’d wished for long ago. Those heavy claws toyed with his thigh seams and wing at the same time, making him squirm and whine for him.  
  
“Yes, right-there, my wing-! AH~!” Hearing the pleased noises Megatron tweaked and groped the sleek metal further. His other hand found a firm grip on the other’s thigh and yanked, slamming their closed panels together and then pinning them close so the seeker could feel the heat from the other. “M-Master,” he began breathlessly.

“Open up that array for me,” Megatron interrupted him, the jet obeying instantly and exposing his valve to the other’s hot modesty plates. His sensitive and swollen valve mesh was flush against the warlord’s over-hot plating, immediately sending jolts of pleasure through him.

“SO-SO HOT, MASTER!” He keened for him and whined when Megatron pulled him down and back up, his exterior node being wonderfully stimulated by the friction. “P-please~!”  
  
“Yes, tell me what you desire, Starscream,” Megatron spoke to the other so sweetly the jet thought he might melt.  
  
“You, your time, your body-!” Starscream prattled off and choked on his intake when his hips were slammed down onto Megatron’s. “Your spike! I desire your spike-!” He confessed needily and was rewarded with the shaft he was so in need of came free of its housing to slide between his valve lips. His body began to writhe and dance on its own, rolling his hips up and back, sliding that thick length between his mesh and twitching when the head bumped against his exterior node.  
  
“You’re magnificent like this, pet,” he cooed. “So ready to do whatever it takes for my spike, aren’t you?”  
  
“Yes-! Yes, anything, mm~” The seeker agreed and worked his hips faster. Megatron halted it with one hand, grabbing tightly to the jet’s thigh and lifting it up, sending the jet onto his back and sprawled out on the berth while he climbed over him.  
  
“Then don’t be afraid of getting what you asked for.” He didn’t give any more foreplay than he deemed necessary and aligned his blunt spike tip with his second in command’s opening and drove in. Starscream shrieked and arched in pain, trying to claw his way backward from the other’s hold but the bedding provided little traction and he was pulled back down onto the other’s spike again.  
  
“No-!” He gasped out. “This-this isn’t what I wanted!” To his surprise everything stopped. The pain, the pulling, the splitting fullness. He shivered and looked down toward Megatron and saw him sitting back on his haunches, his erect spike standing up impatiently between them, the base resting on the top of his pelvic plate. His venting cycled down to a more calm pace and he attempted to speak. “Master, I… I’m sorry, I’ll do better.”  
  
“Why is this not what you wanted?” The brute demanded coarsely, irritated at the other’s change of heart.  
  
“It hurt...”  
  
“It hurt?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“So you just don’t want it to hurt? You still want my spike?” Megatron arched a brow, frown set deeply. Starscream gave a hesitant nod and cried out when he was pulled down and his hips lifted so he was on his wings and shoulders, his arms bending to try and hold himself up even though the larger mech was doing a well enough job of that with his arms over Starscream’s torso.  
  
“M-master?” He could barely see the other’s face from between his raised and parted legs.  
  
“Always so needy, my delicate little bird.” The change in tone and pet-name made the seeker’s spark churn and swell with a long-lost, almost painful joy. “So be it.” Megatron lowered his helm and pressed his rough lips to the jet’s soft, slick valve. His glossa moved forward, thrusting in so deep Starscream would have sworn it was another, better fitted spike instead.

He arched and sighed happily for the other, thanking him in soft gasps and moans and pleading for more. He was helpless at his current angle to do anything but wiggle and point his toes to the heavens. His claws dug into the coverings over his head and he tensed when the larger mech hit a particularly deep and sensitive spot. Megatron sat back after a few moments of this light teasing and licked over his pointed denta. “Is this helping you?” He tried to sound inconvenienced but he was enjoying this rare sampling of his aerial Commander.  
  
“Yes,” Starscream huffed, his senses coming back for a moment. “Yes, I think so.” Megatron nodded at that, confident he could try the next step in this apparently necessary foreplay. Two thick, pointed claws made their way into the seeker’s entrance and he was both pleased and disappointed to find him very tight. He wouldn’t go tearing into the other but he was very impatient and riled up at this point. He decided to move quickly, then, but thoroughly.

The penetrating digits had Starscream seeing sparks behind his optics. They were stroking his inner nodes just right, pressing his calipers apart and letting them relax back down when the fingers slid away, then stretched nicely when they returned. When Megatron stopped a few moments later he tisked his glossa in annoyance, not wanting it to stop.  
  
“Do you have something to say?” The larger mech lowered the seeker’s legs to either side of his hips, letting the other’s aft rest on his lap. Before the other could give any sort of reply his spike was already pressing against plump, needy valve mesh. When the seeker keened for him he grinned more. “That’s what I thought you said.” He mercilessly ground his spike against the other, not yet entering him and instead tormenting him with friction, bucking his hips up and moving the jet’s body in tandem.

“Master-! Oh please, please I’m ready, alright?? I’m ready!” He would have continued pleading for it but his wish was granted when his leader finally pressed his hard cord into him. The full insertion was far gentler this time, and much slower as well. It was a searing pleasure Starscream had hoped for the first time and he was at a loss for words, helm rolled back and mouth open in silent bliss as he was filled. The calipers stretched to accommodate the thick spike and the snug fit gave Megatron a chill of exhilaration. Readjusting his grip on either side of Starscream’s waist the once-gladiator wasted no more time in chasing his pleasure.

He pulled the lithe body away from him only enough to leave the tip of his member in him and yanked him back down onto it, sitting still and only jarring the other to work him over his spike. His cries were almost musical to him, the pitch and desperate gasping that paired so nicely with his pleas were lovely. “Yes, Starscream,” he growled as his pace quickened and his hips began to snap forward to double the speed in which he sheathed himself in his noisy partner. “Sing for me, sing just like that,” he rumbled.

Starscream’s coding was kind enough to not decipher his request as literal and only encouraged his current slew of pleased noises. He continued to whine and moan, his valve deliciously filled again and again, the interior node and exterior being struck on each push of Megatron’s hips. “My liege, Master, My liege!” He tried to call to him with respect each time, finally just breaking down into pleasured gasps and sobs that resembled the other’s name. “Me-AH! MEG-AH!! A-TRO-ONNN! MMYES PLEASE!”

Huffing and building a decently hot ozone around the two he smirked cockily. “What is it you want of me now, Starscream? Isn’t this all you wanted?” He rested a hand back on his own hip, slowing his pace into a teasing grind. The jet arched splendidly, helm back and seems flaring to let out his high heat.  
  
“F-finish with me, inside,” he whined. “I need it, I need you,” he rambled deliriously.  
  
“So be it.” Megatron shifted so he was towering over the other, palms on either side of the seeker’s helm. He gave a hard thrust and the jet bounced up, his body only able to jump so far as his pauldrons hit the other’s arms braced above them.  
  
“Master!” He cried out when he was bucked into again. “Yes!” The other’s spike buried itself deep, hitting home each time and making the other cry for him until his voice became hoarse. Time became an obscure blur of pleasure and desperate pleas for completion. A part of Starscream hoped it would never stop and that their lives wouldn’t resume after this. He wanted this euphoric pleasure to last forever.  
  
Megatron finally decided the other had had enough and dropped to his elbows, his face now right in front of his subordinate’s. “You’re beautiful like this, Starscream,” he growled out to him and the seeker stared up at him, mouth still open and gasping at every swift jutting of his master’s pelvis. It was so fast, so brutally and carnally fast that his body didn’t have time to drop down after being pushed up into the other’s arms. He could only reach up to them and hang on, fingers tightening over pointed pieces of the Decepticon leader’s armor. “You’re beautiful when all you can think about is me.” He pressed his lips against the jet’s, his jagged teeth nipping and the pressure bruising.  
  
Starscream wanted nothing else in that heated frenzy of kissing and fucking. He only wanted to be filled endlessly by his master, held and cherished and pleasured, and to give pleasure to his Master. What an absurd way to have reached this consolidation after all these years, he wondered briefly, to have had slave coding embedded in his system in order to get anything kind out of his leader. He didn’t ponder such things for long, his mind soon whiting out into the blissful static of overload, the roar of Megatron’s release ringing in his audials and the heat of the huge mech’s transfluid pleasantly filled him beyond capacity.

His body was tingling all over, small zips of extra charge jumping from plate to plate as he came down from his high. “Master… that was… thank you… thank you,” he murmured happily, still holding tightly to him.  
  
“Rest now, Starscream. I’ll have more drilling for you in the morning.” The rare and naughty double entendre from his master brought an honest smile and small chuckle out of the tired seeker, but his coding made him obey and he quickly powered down into a recharging cycle, still wonderfully full of his Lord Megatron.


End file.
